flicking fire like saltwater into my eyes
by Ivory Muse
Summary: Thirty-one Zutara Month drabbles. DAY TWELVE- MISTAKE; I think we'd get better results if we sprinkled paprika all over ourselves.
1. relief

_A/N: I'm not a Zutara shipper, to be honest, but I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could exit my comfort zone by writing a couple I wouldn't normally._ _Plus, I'm a sucker for challenges. _

* * *

She cannot keep her eyes off of his scar.

Of course, she knows that it's impolite to stare, to let your gaze linger upon somebody's physical deformities. She spent her childhood in the arctic, for Senna's sake; she's used to seeing missing digits and gnarled legs.

But it's so brutally conspicuous, stark crimson relief against ivory skin, like a grotesque, unfurled flower stretching out to his shriveled ear, tracing his left cheekbone. Who, she wonders, managed to inflict such an injury on a boy? (And that is what he is, she's reminded; a boy, barely a year older than Sokka.)

(_He'd let her touch it once, back in the catacombs. She remembers how it had felt - waxy and cold and dead, a foreign body attached to the rest of his face- and how close she'd been to erasing it._)

"Katara! Did you see? I just shot that thing twenty feet!"

Watching firebending practice. That's what she's supposed to be doing, because Zuko is an evil, monstrous firebender who betrayed them all at Ba Sing Se and won't hesitate to do it again if she isn't around to supervise.

"Keep it up!" she calls at Aang's already retreating back, and notices the livid starburst imprinted onto it. Her blood runs cold.


	2. luminous

_A/N: Someday, I will get tired of Angsty!Zutara. Today is not that day._

* * *

He should be happy. He should be _so fucking happy._

Because he has everything he wanted, now. A heavy golden flame in his topknot. A father who isn't ashamed to call him his son. A sister who, at the very least, is no longer actively trying to kill him. A pretty fiancée who looks past his disfigurement. An honorable position as Crown Prince.

But he cannot forget that his sudden good fortune was paid for with blood whenever he recalls luminous crystals.

Katara's blood.

The insolent peasant had gotten what she deserved, he reasons. Anyone who chose to ally themselves with the avatar heaped the consequences upon their own heads. Did the fool actually think that a ten-minute conversation would override a lifetime of loyalty to his nation?

{_She'd put calloused palms onto his scar, offered to use her valuable water to heal it. There was fury flashing across her face after he fired his first shot, but also a sort of disappointed hurt, almost like she'd expected better. When she'd clutched the avatar's charred corpse in her arms, sickly green gemamite illuminating the entire warped scene, she'd stared directly ahead with hollow, deadened eyes-_}

In his weakest moments, he wonders if she will forgive him.

In his weakest moments, he wonders if he will forgive himself.


	3. potential

_A/N: In which I attempt to write something kind of fluffy, and Kya attempts to explain institutionalized sexism to a five-year-old._

* * *

.i.

"You'll be a great warrior when you're all grown up," Kya says, tickling Sokka under the chin- she's met with delighted squeals. "Look at you, always practicing with that boomerang! Soon you'll be defending the tribe just like Daddy!"

"What about me?" Katara eagerly demands.

"Well-" and here her cheerful expression begins to falter. "You're going to wed a tribesman once you're older, sweetie, and keep his house nice for him. He'll take care of _you _in return."

Katara thinks of the boys her age- loud, messy, prone to making trouble. Does she really have to have one of _them _for a husband?

.ii.

Aunt Wu grasps her palm, delicately traces the longest crease. "Are you sure you want to know, my dear? Most girls would rather have it stay a pleasant surprise..."

"I'm sure." Surprises, she thinks, are almost never pleasant. Besides, she can't deny that the more frivolous part of her brain is curious as to what the answer may be- it's not as clear-cut as it was back when she was a young girl, before all the men of the tribe sailed off with war ballads and desperation ringing in their ears.

The fortuneteller looks closely, brow etched with concentration. "I feel a great romance for you. The man you are going to marry."

"Tell me more!"

"I can see that he's a very powerful bender," she declares, and in spite of herself, Katara is disappointed. She's met precious few benders, and _very powerful _ones must be even rarer.

But, still, at least the pool is narrowed now. "So... how many children?"

.iii.

It's utterly quiet in the Fire Lord's bedchamber, but Katara welcomes stillness after the formal hubbub that had been her wedding. Incense, banquets, vows- what do they all matter? She loves Zuko and wants to be his lady- why does she have to take part in an enormous ceremony to prove that to a bunch of old ministers?

He isn't, she muses, a respectable tribesman, and certainly doesn't expect her to do nothing but keep house and pop out babies. Nor is he a bending prodigy (though he's worked and worked to get as far as he has.) Out of all of the potential husbands she could have had, she doesn't think anyone, not her mother or Aunt Wu or even Aang, would have guessed_ him._

She drapes an arm over Zuko's torso and smiles into the hazy darkness.


	4. change

_A/N: Much thanks to chromeknickers, AnnaAza, and Boogum for their reviews!_

* * *

"I wanted to do it. I wanted to take out all my anger at him, but I couldn't. I don't know if it's because I'm too weak to do it or because I'm strong enough not to."

It comes spewing out like a fountain. Would her mother be proud of her restraint, or disappointed that her murder hadn't been avenged? She isn't sure. She'll never be sure.

"You did the right thing. Forgiveness is the first step you have to take to begin healing," Aang says, but she's looking in another direction. Zuko is posed a few feet away, awkward and vulnerable, like a newborn puppy-seal.

"I didn't forgive him," Katara admits. "I'll never forgive him." There is a limit to her mercy- that man is a monster, an unrepentant one out to save his hide. He deserves no better.

She walks up to Zuko and smiles, tentatively. "But I am ready to forgive you," she says, flinging her arms around his neck, inhaling the warm, musky scent of his hair- after a shocked second, he responds in kind, resting his hands on her waist. There's a thousand messages she wants to convey through that embrace- _thanks for everything; it's all okay between us;_ a touch of _I'm sorry._

Because she was the first to trust him underneath Ba Sing Se, and he repaid her concern by stabbing her in the back. He spent years hunting Aang for his own selfish purposes. That can't be erased or denied- it's indelible ink on their history. But she realizes that she isn't _angry _with him anymore for it- there's no point to being angry with him for it. He did wrong and wants to repent and the world is still somehow spinning on its axis.

They break apart- he looks relieved, as though an enormous burden has just been lifted from his shoulders. And for the first time in months, there is calm in her heart.


	5. serenade

_A/N: I'm going to be out of the country- and likely without internet access- until the sixteenth. I definitely plan on __writing__ more Zutara drabbles, but I may not get to post them right away._

* * *

__"Tell me about your mother."

Katara asks it with sleep permeating her voice- the day is warm, and watching turtleducks paddle has a soporific effect- but Zuko feels a sudden chill. He hasn't talked to anyone about his mother since she vanished that terrible night- at least, not in a conversation more substantial than 'where is she?' Her memory is sacred to him. Kind laughter, soft touches, compassion- all of these things have been long absent from the royal family. He misses them. He misses _her._

"She liked to sing," he murmurs. Katara raises her head off of his lap and turns to face him, disbelieving. Clearly, this wasn't the answer she expected. "War songs, I mean- most women don't know any, but she did. 'The Ballad of Eiji Tsuiyo' was her favorite."

"Every year we went to see The Ember Island Players so that she could make fun of them during intermission. She taught me to play the Tsungi horn when I was six. I think she was the only person who ever loved Azula." Oddly enough, releasing this knowledge does not make him feel worse. It's cathartic, in a way. His mother is gone, perhaps, but that does not mean that she never existed.

"She reminds me a little of you," Zuko admits. "She always tried to help other people, even if they were too far gone."

Katara grasps his hand, squeezes it tightly. They say nothing, for a time.


	6. desired

_A/N: I'm back and bearing fic!_

* * *

Soulmates aren't supposed to break up.

From the moment he awakened from the iceberg in Katara's arms, he'd sensed that they were meant to be together. They could repopulate the Air Nomads, see the whole world, go penguin-sledding until they were thoroughly sick of it. She's the prettiest, kindest, (only) girl for the job.

But she'd patted him on the head and denied everything, stood cold and languid as a statue when he kissed her before the invasion, said point-blank that she was confused on Ember Island, and finally dealt the damning blow.

{_I'm so sorry Aang, you're such a nice guy, this isn't your fault at all, I really do love you but not that way, I'm sorry I just __can't__-}_

Because he didn't capture her heart, in the end. Zuko did.

Hot-tempered, uptight, arrogant Zuko, who doesn't quite know how to smile yet, flinches if someone touches him unexpectedly.

_{Zuko, who helped her find her mother's killer, took a bolt of lightning for her, left his home and honor to throw himself at the mercy of his former enemies, makes her laugh with jokes that don't even have punchlines. __That__ Zuko.}_

He wants to be happy for them- really, he does, he'd be a massive hypocrite if he didn't. The monks had preached that one must never harbor vengeance in his heart; Guru Pathik said that in order to become a true avatar, he must detach from the rest of the world. And most of all, he wants _Katara _to be happy. It just hurts, brutally, to accept that she will never be happy with _him._

Soulmates aren't supposed to break up.

But destiny is a fickle mistress.


	7. pride

_A/N: Just silly, plotless fluff, to be honest, but I had fun coming up with Zuko's dramatic descriptions._

* * *

"Look, Katara, what do you want me to do, beg?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry I insulted your stewed sea prunes, okay, but you have to admit that they have a... pungent scent! Now will you _please_ tell me where you hid them?"

"Ask nicely, and maybe I'll say."

"Fine, fine! Lady Katara, your most august majesty, the moon of my life, could you do this poor wretch a favor and reveal the location of my bags of fireflakes?"

She peers down at him with amused disdain. "A performance truly worthy of the Ember Island Players. All right. They're in the Ayakura Courtyard, under the gazebo."

He storms off in high dudgeon, muttering about the female sex's collective insanity- Katara shoves a handful of spicy goodness into her mouth, taken from a concealed pocket. It'll be _weeks _before he figures it out- by then, her revenge will have already been served.


	8. prejudice

_A/N: Yeah- this is my answer to the Zutara fics where the political ramifications of the union are completely unaddressed._

* * *

"Let me see if I understand your proposal correctly, Lord Zuko. You wish to ascertain the council's opinion of your potential marriage to Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, a woman with no title, property, or breeding." Chairman Kiyo stares at him from across the stuffy chamber, disbelief painted across his face.

His head has been aching since he woke up- this meeting does not help to ease it. "Katara isn't without station," he argues. "Her father's a chief-"

"A chief who commands a hundred people, at most," Lord Tetsu interjects. Zuko can tell that it's taking all of his self-control not to substitute _savages _for _people. _"You rule over a hundred million. This girl has no comprehension of what her role would entail."

_And whose fault is that_? he wants to shoot back, but restrains himself. "She could be taught. Lady Satoko was from the northern islands, and even Sozin approved of her deportment."

History, as always, serves as a temporary panacea. Then Lady Madoka ventures forth yet another question. "What about your children, your majesty? They be waterbenders- how, then, will they rule?"

Firebending is of the utmost importance in a sovereign- only a rare, elite few have the gift of psychokinesis, a blessing from the spirits themselves. What kind of lord can't even light the flames behind the throne?

"Why are you so insistent upon her?" Chairman Kiyo finally demands. "There are thousands of accomplished noblewomen who would sell their own mothers for the opportunity to court you and become your bride. What about a mere peasant beguiles you so?"

_Because those women are vipers, silver-tongued and poisonous, and all they're out for is the chance to raid my coffers. Because I don't care whether my children bend in the first place. __Because I love her__._

_"_What if I were to tell you that our union would cement world peace and improve the Fire Nation's standing?" It's a low card, appealing to their collective, desperate pride, but he is more than willing to play it.

"Now," the chairman says, "we may have an angle we can work with."


	9. sublime

_A/N: Lemony-fresh times ahead. I should probably hike the rating up by now..._

* * *

Their bedchamber is heady with incense, dark and humid as moist velvet, but that is the last thing on Zuko's mind.

Katara clutches his tangled mop of hair and deepens their kiss, forcing her way through lips and teeth. She's no shrinking violet when it comes to love, determined to get what she wants; this doesn't bother him. They're _both_ very determined people, after all.

Gently, almost as though he's afraid to come too close, he traces down her collarbone, the firm swell of her breasts, taut abdominal muscles, silky tendrils of hair, before reaching the warm, slick place at the apex of her thighs; she makes a half-desperate moan and he crooks two fingers within her entrance, listening to her breath grow more and more ragged...

She sheathes him without warning- he bites his lip, tastes coppery blood in his attempt to keep from crying out at the sudden rush of stimulation. It's pure, distilled fervency- the way her back arches, the needy press of her hips against his, how utterly hot and tight and _Agni-_

He finds sublimation in his orgasm; her walls spasm around him and he's gone, digging his nails into her shoulder blades as he rides out waves upon waves of sharp, golden pleasure. Nothing- _nothing- _that feels this good can possibly be allowed to him.

After a time, his eyelids flutter open. Katara is still lying on top of him, idly tracing constellations with the pores on his torso. She's smiling a little now, afterglow-high. He reaches out to clasp her hand and smiles back.

These are the moments he likes the best, he thinks.


	10. affliction

_A/N: The last of my updates for today- I __really__ need to catch up faster._

* * *

These_ feelings _she's starting to get for Zuko are, quite frankly, debilitating.

Katara is a practical, sensible girl, especially when it comes to the opposite sex. Well, other than her little episode with Jet, but she can be forgiven for _that! _He was the only man she had ever met outside of her own tribe, and he'd seemed so tall and courageous and heroic that she'd fallen head over heels. Then he turned out to be a terrorist scumbag, capable of harming civilians in the name of vengeance- in a matter of seconds, her silly romance had become something far, far more grim.

But she's older now, and wiser. She knows that people are fickle, knows some will take advantage of her kindness for their own gain. Zuko was one of them.

So why is there an odd swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach when she looks at him for too long?

Reluctantly, if she probes, she can admit that he is handsome, for sixteen. There's the brutal scar across the left side of his face, but it doesn't obscure his strong jaw or clear amber eyes or high cheekbones. He's muscular, too- exile and lacking nutrition have slimmed his frame, but the majority of his figure still remains. (She's been staring at his abs when she's supposed to be watching firebending practice. It wasn't her original intention.)

He might have some endearing traits. His dorky half-smiles that practically scream _cuddle me now, _his willingness to sacrifice, his determination whenever he sets his sights on something. Perhaps, now that she has forgiven him, they could be friends.

(Katara wonders once if this is how _Aang _feels about _her._ Always there, but always out of reach. This is her punishment, maybe- to hopelessly admire from afar- because Zuko has a girlfriend. Mai, Azula's dour lackey, who threw herself to the wolves at the Boiling Rock to save him. She's torn between gratitude and niggling envy.)

"Do you want any help with that?" a raspy voice inquires.

She looks up sharply, arms buried in the sink, to find Zuko standing in the kitchen doorway. Doing the dishes, by this point, is second nature to her- most household chores are. She takes care of them so that the others can focus on their training- she takes care of others because that is what she was meant to do. This is _her_ domain.

Then again, he doesn't _have _to help. He's offering. Nobody else has ever bothered to ease her load.

"Sure," she replies, handing him a dishcloth, and tries to restrain the dark blush rising in her cheeks.


	11. intimacy

_A/N: I did wonder what happened between the interrogation scene and when Sokka and Aang are brought back._

* * *

Zuko comes terribly, terribly close to her face with his own smirking one. "Try to understand. I need to capture him to restore something I've lost- my honor."

Katara jerks her head away from him. How could it be _honorable _to kill the world's last hope for peace and balance? She'll never understand fire scum and their savage customs, no matter how long she lives.

"Perhaps in exchange I can restore something you've lost," he continues, and holds her mother's necklace up against her chin.

"How did you get that?" She's shaking from anger now, fists clenched. Does he really think she would sell out a friend for the sake of an heirloom? She loved her mother- she still loves her mother. But she knows that she would never want her to make such a trade.

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you're wondering," Zuko lazily replies, slipping it back into his pocket. "_Tell me where he is."_

_"NO!" _she shouts, hating her utter helplessness. _This _is why she wanted to learn to waterbend the right way- so that she wouldn't end up in these kinds of situations, trapped like an animal.

"Enough of this necklace garbage!" one of the pirates demands- she'd almost forgotten that they were there. "You promised a scroll."

"I wonder how much this is worth," he says, lighting a flame an inch beneath the parchment in his palm. Collective gasping follows. "A lot, apparently. Now you help me find what I want, you'll get this back, and everyone goes home happy. Search the woods for the boy and meet back here!"

They scamper off, and she's left alone with the prince. Rope is chafing against her arms and sides- he's tied her far too tightly-

Oh, merciful Senna, he can't be planning on- bound to a tree, beneath the cover of darkness, she's not a strong woman and he's been toying with her all night. Oh, merciful Senna.

He takes out the pendant again, twirls it between his fingers. "Don't look so pathetic," he chides. "I have no reason to hurt _you_. But there's a lot I can offer you if you were to cooperate."

Relieved for a moment- if she can trust a firebender to keep his word, that is- her indignation returns in full force after his last comment. "Do you want to stop the war and bring back harmony?" she mocks. "Zuko, I didn't know you had it in you."

His eyes- harsh and yellow, like a bird of prey's- flash. "I never said you could refer to me by my given name," he grinds out. "You're nothing more than a water peasant; you should count yourself lucky to kiss the dirt below my feet." Back in her face; she can smell the ashes on his breath and forces herself to meet his furious stare.

Calling a prince by his name is disrespectfully intimate, she's sure- it's a good thing that she has no respect for a vicious, manipulative beast who treats her worse than the filth under his boots because of her birth. "_Get- the- hell- away- from- me," _she slowly enunciates, smirking in distaste. "I don't want my necklace, or whatever else you say you're willing to give. I care about my friends more- have you ever had a single friend with that kind of attitude?"

He stalks a few paces towards the forest- clearly, she's struck a nerve, though he won't admit it. "Babble all you like. Once my men return with the avatar, we'll see who's laughing then."


	12. mistake

_A/N: To compensate for the angstiness of the previous drabble, I've decided to go for comedy. Comedy straight from The Big Bang Theory. I make no apologies._

* * *

"'How to Spice Up Your Sex Life,' by Wang Fire," Katara reads, keeping the scroll a safe distance away from her person. "You're saying _Sokka _gave you this?"

"Listen," he begins defensively, "it has a lot of tips, okay? See, there's an entire section on... role-playing. Right there."

She unravels it. "Let's take a peek. 'Nurse and patient', 'sexy schoolgirl', I really don't think a policewoman can do her job wearing _that-"_

_"_How about this one?" he suggests. Can't she give it a try? It's not that he has any complaints about the current state of their lovemaking, mind, but maybe it's time for something new, so that they don't get bored. "'Landlord and tenant.'" He leans up against the wall. "So, you say you can't pay your rent."

"Why do you get to be the landlord?" she demands, hands on her hips. Subtle message- _we all know who wears the pants around here. _"So, you say you can't pay your rent."

Slightly disgruntled- he doesn't think the landlord was supposed to sound quite so bossy- he continues. "Maybe we could find a method other than cash."

"And what method might that be?"

"I'll suck your big- Katara, this isn't going to work, you don't have one of these. See, I _told _you I should be the landlord."

"Well," she huffs, "how sexist is that! Why can't a woman play the leading role?"

"The policewoman, nurse, and dominatrix aren't enough for you?" he asks incredulously.

"What a terrible guide," Katara declares, rolling it with a dramatic flourish. "Could we please go back to bland, vanilla sex, if this is spice? Because we'd get better results by sprinkling paprika all over ourselves."

"Do you mean...?"

She smirks languidly, tugs at the hem of his tunic. "I hope we can come up with something a_ little_ bit more exciting."


End file.
